That Ugly Power and Control Gene

I shared a post on FB of the cover of the latest New Yorker mag. It’s a very unflattering caricature of the Cheetoman, hitting golf balls at the White House, breaking windows. It’s pretty funny. Someone commented that he is such an “unqualified” public servant. I replied, “he’s not a public servant, he’s a public nuisance.” Seriously……he only serves himself. Jimmy Kimmel had a video up from his show where he shows how the tweeter-in-chief has a habit of moving things when he sits down. At dinner, at his desk, or coffee table, at a conference…what ever. I think my ex used to do that a lot, especially when he was trying to show that he was working. Control issues, both of them. Gotta re-arrange the table setting to show it’s never right.

Then I saw a video, on FB, of Cheetoman in a ceremony to sign a bill, with everyone there, and then he walked out of the room without signing it. He thanked everyone, said we’d see some immediate changes, and then left the room. Pence tried to get him to come back, and DJT told him to bring the bill with him. He’s starting to lose his shit, really. It’s wild, but kind of scary to see someone in that position who is seriously losinig it.

Every day, there is more stuff about this mans inability to deal with his job. After dealing with my ex last week so much, I can’t really watch him much because I swear, he even looks like my ex. Same facial expressions, when I know he was trying to fool everyone that he actually had a clue what was going on, but didn’t. I really hate to listen to him. So most of the videos I just watch and shut the sound off.

It’s scary really, when someone is so hell-bent on power and control that they will lose everything, like my ex did. But to see that same personality type….with their fingers on the nuclear codes….and randomly tweeting in the middle of the night, constantly disrespecting our allies. Crazy scary shit.

I learned a lot about power and control when I left my marriage. I had no idea what had happened to me until I was in an online community for abuser survivors. Then, I found Brene Brown, among others, but it was her TED talk on vulnerability that really broke it down for me. I wonder if the orange one’s father berated and belittled him his whole life, like my ex did my son. Like my father-in-law did to my ex. And all of tRumps wealth and running for a job for which he is clearly unqualified, to say the least, was to prove to his father he was worthy. And I bet he’s still not. This is just random musing on my part, but he sure fits the bill.

What I’ve learned is that these people never can change. They will go down with the ship. You can’t save someone hell bent for terror. I tried, I kept thinking that one day he’d snap out of it, one day he’d see what he was doing. but he just consistently became more deeply imbedded in it. My ex would rather have lost everything than admit being abusive. The stories he makes up now, I just have to pick my jaw up off the floor. I gave up a long time ago setting his record straight. It only creates an argument to tell him, for example, that he had 16 years with our son, not just 6 or 7. He made up this outlandish statement to try to explain why his son wouldn’t talk to him, rather than face that fact that he was horribly abusive to him. Just made up a story, that he can tell people, so he’s not at fault, so he doesn’t have to face the shame.  I am so glad I had my moment of realization that he was never going to be able to change, and was never going to allow my family to live a normal life, and moved on.  Because, look at the life I have now.  It was worth 4 years in court, to salvage the rest of my life.  It was even more worthwhile, to see how well my son is doing, because I gave him a chance to see a different way of living.  Not in fear but in love.

DJT too, just tries to cover one lie with another. He’s a bully, to hide his own fear rather than face it.

Well, it’s whatever. I guess I’m a little retrospective today. That power and control gene is a tough one.

I have a nice day planned. Going out to the “Frankie and Johnny” show tonight to hear my good friend sing. Might even put a dress on for it, lol. It’s a beautiful day today, 80° and sunny. I probably need to do some baking for my son in the next day or two. And maybe for our new writer’s group. That should be fun. Think I’ll take a nap this afternoon too. I was up in the middle of the night again last night, and finally took an Ambien. I guess I got some sleep. You know those nights when you wake up and you don’t think you’ve been asleep, but the clock shows the passage of hours….That was me. I don’t want to be falling asleep at the show tonight.

Love and light everyone.

Golden Idol

golden idol

Mindfuck
is so hard to deal with.
Senseless stories
Told in earnest
To no reasonable end
For no reasonable purpose
Except to mindfuck.

Hanging onto the past
When it’s dead and gone.
Over….
I’m not your wife
Anymore.

Unable to give up control
Even for your son.
It’s incomprehensible to me.

Bend down on the floor.
Cry, let the tears fill the room.
Reach for the golden cow
That led you into ruin.
Hold it close,
Imagine it is all you lost.
Blame the idol
Or me
Or God
For it all.

Soaked with your own salty tears
On the floor of your prison
Alone
No one there but you
And your cold golden idol.

Does it bring you comfort?

 

By Deborah E. Dayen

Image from Propmonicon, via Google Images.

Sculptor Christian Hartmann

When Is An Apology Real?

I just got home from a long day trying to prepare the art center for the grand opening tomorrow. Hanging more art, and cataloging all of it, organizing the spreadsheets so that the we can know which gallery each piece of art hangs in. I am just amazed at the scope of this project, how much participation they have received, the volumes of art that is on display. I felt guilty leaving tonight, but my feet and ankles were just done after 8 or 9 hours of continuously being on them. So I went home, and hopefully will be of more use to them tomorrow than I could be if I stayed later tonight.

Most of the work I did today was fairly mindless, really, though. So I had a lot of time to think. I heard from the nameless one again….I know, I know. Ridiculous. I just kept thinking about how he keeps behaving in ways for which he has to apologize.  Why he can’t change his behavior, but he can’t. An apology which says, “I agree with everything you said” doesn’t mean a whole lot when you’ve heard it so many times. The behavior stays the same….I’ve begged him to leave me alone, and maybe he will now. I also actually feel genuine compassion for B. My anger with him had nothing to do with her, because I knew what he was up to.  He just managed to piss me off royally just by his arrogance, and his narcissism, and I just am so sick of it.  I was sick of it in December.  Didn’t talk to him for a couple months, but then the damn smoke alarm thing, geezus.   However, B didn’t know, apparently (even though I’d mentioned it before in my blog)…and he was telling her something else, from what I gather. I don’t know exactly what he was telling her, and I don’t want to know=. I was told he was not with her, but I guess she believed he was trying to turn over a new leaf. While he was not, while he was continuing with the same behavior he did 18 months ago, and it’s been pretty much on-going since I moved.  The only saving grace was that I am now 1500 miles away, and none of our conversations could be acted on.

Oh, I’m running on, just trying to think my way through the tangled web of lies, that somehow caught my leg and pulled me in. I just feel for her, to be blindsided yet again. But I’m so happy to be out of that triangle, and game that he plays. I feel bad for him, to not be able to change such self destructive behavior.

And I’m so happy to be having such a cool guy as L make me dinner next week. Such a big difference.

So tomorrow will be busy, and fun. Gonna get some dinner and rest. Love and light, everyone.

Pizza, and Other Tidbits

I’m sure some of you have iPhones. The newer ones, and maybe even older ones, now will translate a voice mail into text. It can get pretty funny as all voice to text can, although I will say it’s surprisingly accurate at most times.

Anyway, I got an angry voice mail yesterday, from the nameless one. I have had a few voicemails from him in the last few days, all saying he just wanted to talk to me, he wasn’t angry, etc. Instead of calling him, which would only lead to an angry exchange, (because I was still angry, even if he wasn’t, at the audacious things he said and the lies) I sent him an email asking him to just let it go, and also told him and posted on here that I was seeing L last night. The voicemail that I received after that went from “please call me.” to calling me a “piece of shit” for ruining his relationship with B. (I did email him and ask him to consider that it was the lies he told both of us that did him in with her, particularly telling me that he was not “with” her, that they were just friends who had coffee together occasionally. Seriously, he’s out shopping for women, and I’m the cause of his demise? Hmmm. I think not. Narcissist….)

The iPhone however, didn’t comprehend “piece of shit” and changed it into his calling me a “pizza”. It really made me laugh. Pizza. Don’t think I’ve ever been called pizza before! LOL. Really took that anger and kind of made me laugh at it.

So ends the last act in that ridiculous drama. Pizza. With pepperoni, please….

My dinner with L was wonderful. He’s going to cook for me early next week. We talked and laughed and just enjoyed each other’s company. Respectful, and kind, and and funny, and a little shy, which is very endearing on a big, good-looking, football player type! Can’t wait to see him again.

I thought my cough was gone, since I didn’t cough all day yesterday. Until he got here, and kept making me laugh, deep belly laughs that made me cough….I was a little embarrassed! But it didn’t seem to put a damper on us, so that was good.

Early next week is a good time to see him again, because I will be very busy with the grand opening for the Veterans Art Center for the next few days. I think the actual event will be a lot of fun. I’m hoping that a lot of vets artwork is sold and that they make a lot of money, as well as the center raises a lot. It’s such a wonderful project. Today I’ll go over and help my bestie who’s the curator to get all the galleries organized. She said we’ve gotten in 100’s of pieces of amazing artwork for it.

And I have open mic tonight.  Won’t be home too much today!

Exciting things happening here. The shift I felt a week or so ago is well underway, and life is amazing. Love and light, everyone.

My Pot Boileth Over

Do you ever have so much to say, and know you should just keep your mouth shut, so you don’t start WWIII?? That’s me, right now. All day. I’ve been a simmering pot, which is on the verge of boiling over. So I’m here, letting off a little more steam, trying to keep the mess to a minimum as I deal with a whole bunch of crap.

I have so much I’d like to say about the lie and the liar who told it to me last night. Unwittingly, because the liar forgot that lie had already been told to me once, and tried to lie about it again. Like, really? Didn’t that happen oh, 18 months ago? No?????? Oh well, you said it did. You actually confirmed it on two separate occasions. And now, you have lied so much to so many people, you can’t remember that you already used that one on me. So which one was a lie? I think the 18 months ago… Not the one last night.

There is smoke fuming out of my nose. And my ears, and my mouth and my eyes. There is a volcano bubbling up and I’m gonna have to find some external method to stop it from bubbling over. Anger is slow to rise with me, then it sets on fire, then it subsides, all pretty quickly. Usually. In this case, it may take awhile.

Maybe because before the lie, earlier in the day, I’d been informed there was a shopping spree on, and I might get chosen for a test ride, mabye even purchased, like what a cool thing that would be!! Wouldn’t anyone love to think of themselves as a product on a shelf for someone else’s enjoyment? As if I was lucky enough to be in the running for the final choice? Yeah…..I was already pretty pissed off about that. Really really pissed off.

Some people are just depraved. Really. I turned a blind eye to it, made excuses for it, for way way too long. But really, how can I continue being deaf, dumb and blind to that kind of sickness when it creeps into my life over and over, in different disguises but the delivery person is always the same one? I can’t, I just can’t. I have to sweep it from my life, from my psyche for one last time. I have no words left to describe what I think of an individual who can actually do and think this kind of stuff, and actually justify it in their sick head. I think it will be easy this time, to keep the house of my psyche clean, as soon as my anger subsides. Writing this out helped.

3 AM Observations

After not being able to write much while my friends were here, last night I couldn’t stop. I wrote the blog, Manatees and Men, and then two poems. In between the poems, I wrote another whole post as I tried to figure out what it is that holds me back with Tim.

I realized that the whole day together we did not really laugh. And laughter is such an aphrodisiac, I so miss hanging out with someone who makes me laugh hysterically all the time. It actually has overridden the fact that I was betrayed on a grand scale, so many times. I think that’s why I kept talking to him periodically over the last year, because I wanted to laugh, and feel sexy at the same time.

I went to sleep easily last night, and didn’t wake up until about 3 AM. I knew yesterday was the anniversary of the night my mother died last year. And that also marks the beginning of Scott’s re-entry into my life. I pieced it all together like a movie in my head for a couple of hours last night, just observing all the emotion I felt then. Because I wanted to understand what the incredible attraction to him was, when he was able to so betray me, and lie to me and to Betty so easily. Why did I still feel affection for him, so many times, and let him back in? The answer to that would be the answer to why I could not feel a connection to the other nice men I’ve dated.

Scott and I had been talking the whole week before my mom died, every day, many times more than once a day. because Betty had just found out about me and this blog a week before, and was never going to talk to him again. He and I had fallen into our old routine, of talking, texting, picking up where we left off before Betty’s re-entry into his life. When my mother died, I called him.. It was late at night, I’d just hung up the phone with him and knew he was up. He offered to come just be with me the next day, so I wouldn’t have to be alone, and I was so bereft, and so grateful that he would do that. He came, and we swiftly fell into bed and a relationship again. For 3 weeks, til Betty found out, got jealous, and wanted him back. I’d known that would probably happen, that at some point she’d want him back, I understood the pattern. But I didn’t expect the attacks from him, designed to convince her that it meant nothing to allay her jealousy, when of course I knew better. Later on he confirmed what I knew, and I thanked him for that, because I’d taken so much shit about our relationship from him, and then from Betty, who in her jealousy, felt she needed to weigh in on my relationship with him. And then his cryptic messages….oh it went on. We stopped talking at all for 3 months. It’s all here in the blog over the last year.

But the point is, no matter if I was crying, or if I was furious with him, or loving him, he made me laugh. I mean, wonderful belly laughs. I once cursed him for making me cry, and then making me laugh while tears were running down my cheeks. When we broke up, he used to say the thing he missed most was hearing me laugh.

I won’t go there again with him. I am just too tired of the games that get played, of the insecurity of caring for someone I could never trust. The last time we talked, I just looked at my phone and exhaled “I am SO sick of this game.” That was the end, and I won’t start again.

But neither will I settle for someone who can’t make me laugh.

I don’t want to hurt Tim. He is a nice guy, really nice. Kind, loving, sweet. But he doesn’t make me laugh. He makes me smile, but that’s not the same. And, I think it’s too soon for him after his wife’s death. He doesn’t think so, but he has said that he really needs a woman in his life. I don’t need a man, I really don’t NEED one. I am quite happy to be alone most of the time. But I want one, I love men. I think I should call it quits with him before I end up hurting him, because I don’t see me ever feeling very amorous with him, and I know he’s heading there now. He said he has his own life that he loves, and he does, but he’s got a hole to fill. He says he NEEDS a woman. I don’t think I will ever want the job of filling a hole left by the death of their spouse.

I’m just going to keep on looking. And, to keep on loving the life I’m creating here. As I get more involved in community projects, maybe I’ll meet someone in real life, who can make me laugh hysterically. I can only hope.

But I’m going to stop obsessing over it. I know better what I want now. But I’m also very grateful for the life I’ve created, and live. It’s seriously joyful most of the time.

It’s nice to have the house to myself again this morning. I haven’t done my meditation since before the girls came for 3 days, because I need quiet, no distractions and none of them are meditators. It’s something I need to do, to keep myself centered.

I think I’ll go do that now. Love and light, all.

A Final (for now) Word on Lies

I lay awake last night remembering so many lies I’ve been told. From about 2:30 til 4, the parade of them was constant. From my ex, from S. I wanted to turn them off, stop remembering. I kept asking myself, “Why are you dredging this up now? Again?”

I suppose because I saw the post from Liz Gilbert and it so touched me. But it also, apparently, triggered me.

Finally, I remembered to begin my gratitude list. And repeated over and over the list of things I’m grateful for, until I finally fell asleep again.

Odd thing is, that some of the things for which I’m most grateful had to do with the men who so betrayed me. I’m grateful for my son, always first, most. And the man who couldn’t, can’t, stop lying gave him to me. I’m grateful to know I can love so much, so passionately, still, and the man who broke my heart into a million pieces gave me that.

So…..there’s always a place for forgiveness, because in all the loss, there was gain. And the things I gained, I would not give back for anything.

‘Tis they who pay the price for their lies and deceit and betrayal. Not me. My life goes on, richer, and fuller than ever before. Their lives…..well, I expect they will remain closed to the things they are closed to. That their default setting of lies to people will continue to keep them alone. Even if they think they are not alone, the lies about the lies about the lies continue to dig a deep hole in their soul.

I fell asleep with only love in my heart for all the people in my life. To waste a life telling lies, manipulating people, never knowing the joy of love unimpeded by ego, is sad. It’s not my life, it’s theirs and their choices.

I guess the hours awake thinking of it helped me to reconcile it. As a wise woman once said to me, “I guess it was something you needed to be awake for.” I apparently needed to dredge up a little more, and deal with it. Since there are no coincidences, there’s a reason I had to see that post just before I went to bed. I had more work to do, I did it. I’m better for it.

Love and light, all.

Liz Gilbert on Truth and Kindness (and lies….)

I just saw this on Facebook.  It’s a post by my hero, Elizabeth Gilbert, on Truth, Lies and Kindness.  BOY, does she nail it.  Just nails it.  As someone who has had my life turned upside down by the lies of others, and who has been attacked for my passion to have the truth out on the table, this was amazing to read. I was accused of wanting to play God, because I insisted that the truth be told.  When, in reality, it was the liar that played God, manipulating me and others lives for their own benefit, with the most enormous pile of painful lies imaginable.  Liz Gilbert explains my need, and my pain, and my truth better than I have ever been able to.  Read on…..
Image may contain: text

Dear Ones –

The biggest emotional trouble I’ve ever gotten into in my life always stemmed from the same dilemma — when I was torn between telling the truth, and being kind.

Both matter immensely to me.

Both of these virtues (truth and kindness) are top-notch, A-grade, golden-ticket qualities, recognized by every human society in history as being essential for basic goodness.

I want to be unfailingly honest, but I want to be a REALLY NICE PERSON.

But here’s the thing: I’ve traditionally had trouble figuring out how to be both. Because sometimes the truth really hurts people, and I never want to hurt anybody. So — for most of my life — when I had to choose between truth and kindness, I always went with kindness. Because my need to not hurt people was bigger than my need to be truthful.

Also, isn’t it a fact that most people — no matter what they may claim — actually don’t really want you to tell them the truth? (Or so my reasoning went, anyhow.) As a Ethics Professor of mine taught me back in college: “Most of us grew up in families where our parents DEMANDED the truth, but they couldn’t DEAL WITH IT…and so we all learn how to lie.”

Didn’t the world teach you how to lie, too, in order to keep things peaceful and smooth? So aren’t you doing people a favor, when you them what they want to hear? Isn’t that nice of you?

No.

Here’s the thing I have finally learned, after years of struggling and suffering over this subject:

White lies are OK. Other lies are not.

There is such a thing as a harmless little white lie. The best anecdote I know about this came from President Jimmy Carter’s mother, who — when her son was running for president — was visited down in Georgia by a pushy New York journalist, who demanded to know, “Is it true that your son has never told a lie? Seriously? NEVER?” Mrs. Carter thought about it, and said “Well, Jimmy has told some white lies….” The journalist thought she had Mrs. Carter in trap and said, “Aha! But isn’t a white lie just a lie, all the same?” Mrs. Carter said, “No, white lies are harmless.” The journalist said, “Give me an example of a harmless white lie.” Mrs. Carter said, “Well…remember when you came into my house today, and I told you that it was very nice to meet you? THAT was a white lie…”

Mrs. Carter was correct: If you can’t tell little white lies sometimes in order to be polite to people, than you’re a sociopath and a jerk — so don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal. Tell your neighbor that her cake was delicious — who cares? The world does not hinge upon such things, but it’s fine to be polite.

But this is not what we are talking about here.

We are talking about bigger moments, bigger lies, bigger truths.

There will be times in your life when people need to hear the truth from you — real truth, that will have real impact on their real existence — and when you decide “protect” that person with lies, then you are actually not protecting them at all. What you are doing is demeaning both them and you.

As that same Ethics Professor taught me, twenty-five years ago, “Whenever you lie to somebody about something that affects their life, you are manipulating that person and infantilizing them. By denying somebody essential information that they need in order to make intelligent decisions about their own future, you are effectively making all their decisions for them. There is no greater act of disrespect you could offer to an adult human than to make their choices for them, by lying to them, or by withholding essential information.”

Or, as my friend Martha Beck has taught me: “The truth is always an act of kindness, even when it seems like it will hurt. And a lie is always an act of unkindness, even when you believe you are being protective.”

For years, I told lies to people because I didn’t want to hurt them. Some of this was because I am “a nice person”, sure. But some of it was because I was “a scared person.” And some if it was because I was “a controlling person”. (Which isn’t very nice, when you really think about it.)

It took years of terrible consequences and suffering for me to realize that I wasn’t doing anybody any favors by hiding the truth from them, again and again. By lying to people out of kindness, I was being neither honest NOR kind. What I was practicing, in fact, is what the Buddhist call “Idiot Compassion” — which is when your cowardliness and your weak-heartedness makes you pity people instead of respecting them. Idiot compassion is what keeps people in relationships with abusers. (“Oh, he can’t help it! He had a hard childhood!”) Idiot compassion is what makes people engage in “pity sex”. Idiot compassion makes you cover for people, instead of challenging them. Idiot compassion is at the basis of all codependency. Idiot compassion makes you say yes when you need to say NO. Idiot compassion makes you easy to manipulate, but also makes you a serial manipulator — because you are always controlling people when you lie to them. Idiot compassion is called “idiot compassion” because it makes an idiot out of you, but it also makes an idiot out of your victim, because what you are offering is not protection, but patronization. By building a house of lies — no matter how pretty it may look from the outside — you are keeping everyone trapped.

As my friend Iyanla Vanzant says, “Respect people enough to tell them the truth.”

Respect yourself enough for that, too.

If there is one lesson I have FINALLY learned that has actually transformed my life, it is this: Whenever you are called to choose between truth and kindness, choose truth.

Trust me, in that moment you will actually be choosing both.

ONWARD,
LG

Blowin’ Away on the Summer Wind

summer wind

I walked with my cousin this morning, a short walk, just a couple of miles. The rain stopped, it was cloudy, and though it was very humid, it was cooler, not quite 80. It was a pleasant change. It’s was that way all day, til a short time ago.

We talk, deep and honest, always. I talked to her about moving, and when I talked about leaving my son in Denver, I started crying. Geezus.

The walk was nice, but I can’t even talk about that without losing it. I don’t know how I’m going to actually do it.

Then I went to the grocery store this afternoon. I ran into one of my best friends there. We have known each other 22 years, since our kids were 2 and in Story Hour at the library together. Her daughter and my son were born on the same day. My son is older, lol, by 3 hours. A fact he never let her daughter forget.  She was part of our small book club.

She had just come home from a big family vacation to Ireland and England, with some side trips, one to Paris for a few days, I think. I had called her to see if she wanted to go for a walk about 3 or 4 weeks ago and she said, “Um…I’m in Ireland.” LOL. I said, “Oh, I guess you don’t want to go then…..” And laughed. We talked a little, texted a little.

So it was good to see her, and just catch up briefly. I told her I sold the house while she was gone, and she looked happy and sad in the same moment. We talked about it briefly, because she had an engagement she had to get to, but I choked up again, talking about taking son to CO. I am a basket case. I so wish he had a father. Or I should say, a father who wasn’t a sociopath. Anyway, we are going to try to get the book club together to say goodbye the week after next.

I truly can’t believe I’ll be out of here in 6 weeks. I’ve feel like I’ve been talking about it forever. It’s been so often, my final escape from so much drama in my life, from men who can’t love, or won’t, who have caused me so much pain.  Men who have taken all I would give, and given me back nothing except pain, and heartache, and lies.

Now I look at it as just an awesome thing I get to do. I’m so over all of that. I think about it, and I think, the drama goes on, I’m sure. Just without me. Because, really….how could there ever be any trust there? Yeah, she lied, a small tiny lie to make him stop lying to her, to make him believe he’d been caught red-handed.  I seriously only objected to it because she involved me, and it just wasn’t true. But really, he’s the one who cannot tell the truth. How could she ever ever trust her heart to him again? So much like my ex. Just cannot talk without trying to manipulate someone.

I feel like, she’s just in her comfort zone with him, and willing to put up with his bullshit.  She was never going to talk to him again, twice now, til I did.  So she did.  What kind of foundation for a relationship is that?  If I’d told him to come here that night 6 weeks ago when he asked me so many times….what would she have done then?  Wanted him back?  I was leaving anyway….who knows?  Such a game they play.

Whatever. It’s none of my business. Sometimes I just go off on a tangent, it was part of my life way too long.  I still feel connected to him on some level, it’s weird.  But it doesn’t stop me from living this life.  If we are connected through past lives, which I feels sure we are, we will bump into each other again.  But this life time….I don’t think so.

The whole point, now, is….I get to retire.  I don’t have to work, unless I want to.  I intend to find a part-time job, grocery money.  I get to live by the water, which has always been my other home.  I get to do the things I love to do, that I have a passion for, and not spend the bulk of my time at a stressful job.  I will be so free.  As hard as it will be to say goodbye to my son, the fact that he’s not going to be living with me, makes me all the more free.

I didn’t do any packing today. Just normal house chores. Laundry, shopping, making some food so we’ll have food to eat during the week. Now I’m outside in the sacred space, lol. With a dark rum and diet coke and half a lime squeezed into it. Feeling pretty content. Sun is out, and it’s breezy. This mornings humidity is blowing away.

As are the last years tears, and pain, and drama. Blowing away, leaving cool, clean energy in it’s place. Life is so good.

Love and light, everyone.